


Forfeit

by apiphile



Category: Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Collars, Dare, M/M, forfeit, giant fibreglass cow ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apiphile/pseuds/apiphile





	Forfeit

Rik rolled the dice – well, the one die with no six and one seven, the dot added in Tippex – and beamed offensively as it clattered onto the monopoly board with the five facing up. "Hah! One, two, three, four … five. Mayf- oh."

"Pay up, Rik," Mike advised. "That tiny metal dog has tiny metal puppies to feed and 'e can't do that if you keep welching on your rent."

Rik passed two pink notes over the board with a look that was both squirmy and forlorn. Screwing up his spotty visage into one of its more heinous smiles, Rik reached over and patted the small tarnished monopoly piece (the only original one they had left) hesitantly on the head. "Good doggie – ahaha hahaha haha …"

"That's another fiver Personal Space Fine," Mike said. While Rik groaned and blustered, Vyvyan snatched the die and flung it across the board without any kind of finesse.

"SEVEN!" he bawled. "One, two, two, three, four, five, six, six-b, seven! Community chest!"

"Where's Neil?" Rik asked as Vyvyan pounced on the pile of dog-eared Community Chest cards with the unholy glee of a crow faced with a road-flattened rat.

"Cleaning the toilet." A look of bemusement crossed Mike's face, quickly and looking in both directions in case it was knocked down by guile or abducted by sleaze. "Either that or committing suicide with Harpic. I forget which."

"Community _~Chest_," Vyvyan repeated, holding up the battered piece of card as he read. "You have a tax rebate. Collect twenty pounds and make Rik your pet dog for the week."

Rik clutched the fake money firmly in one hand. "It does _not_ say that."

"Yes it does!"

"Yes but I bet it says it in biro," Rik sniffed. "I bet you've been writing on the cards again, haven't you, Vyvyan? Mike, Vyvyan's been writing on the cards, that last bit doesn't count because it's in _biro_."

"No it isn't," Vyvyan said with an infuriating smile that looked a lot like his _I've just kicked something in_ smile.

"Yes it is!"

"No it isn't!"

"Yes – it – _is_ \- " Rik poked Vyvyan very deliberately in the upper arm. Vyvyan punched him in the chest.

"No it isn't, _look_," Vyvyan shoved the card under Rik's nose while he was still sniveling, and pointed at the smudgy grey letters. "It's in _pencil_," he said in tones of great triumph. "Now pay up, poofy, or I'll kick your teeth in."

Rik handed over the fake twenty with an elaborate sigh. "Al_right_. But I'm not being your dog."

"Oh yes you are."

"Am not."

"_Are_."

"Am not – look, it doesn't even make any _sense_," Rik said hastily, "what are you going to _do_, anyway, make me eat my meals off the floor and bark at the post man?" he scoffed, looking pleased at his own wit.

Vyvyan considered this. "Yeah." He held up a finger. "Also I am considering leaving you tied up in the garden."

"Nah, that's a very bad idea, Vyvyan," Mike interjected, helping himself to hotels.

"_Why_?"

"We'll have the RSPCA down on our heads – "

"And it's a bloody stupid idea!"

"Shut up, Rik. Vyv, you'll have to keep him inside. And put a collar on him, or the police'll pick him up as a stray and we'll be down on the rent."

"I am _not_ wearing any – " Rik began, and Vyvyan punched him in the chest again.

While Rik was rolling about on the floor, Vyvyan undid his own spiked dog's collar and gave it a rueful look before yanking Rik upright again and buckling it slightly too tight around his neck.

"Ow! This is against my human rights, you know!" Rik yelped. "I'm going to write to – I'm going to – I'm going – " his expression changed significantly, and he finished in a strangled voice, "- just going to go to the toilet – " before bolting from the room in an odd crouching run.

There was a pause. "Dogs don't use the toilet," Vyvyan said decisively.

"That they don't, Vyv," Mike agreed.

"I'm going to have to discipline him," Vyvyan announced very seriously, and he stalked out of the room in his usual thunderous gait, a rolled-up copy of the free local newspaper clutched in his hand. "HERE DOGGY DOGGY – "

Upstairs, Rik had found himself unable to extract a bleach-scented hippy from the bathroom (it might have been Neil, but without his characteristic patina of dirt and stench of patchouli it was hard to say) and dived instead into his bedroom, immediately pulling his one scrawny pillow over the tent in his trousers.

Vyvyan kicked the door off its hingers.

"Vyvyan!" Rik squawked. "You might have knocked! There is such a thing as manners, you know!"

"I _did_ knock," Vyvyan gestured to the remains of Rik's bedroom door. "And you've been a BAD DOG – " he raised the rolled-up newspaper high and Rik threw his arms above his head.

"Vyvyan for heaven's sake!"

"And you're wearing clothes," Vyvyan continued, waving the paper tube about. "Dogs don't wear clothes."

"For the last time I am not – "

Vyvyan gave his rolled-up newspaper a firm brandish.

"That doesn't scare _me_, it's just a paper – what are you going to do, give me a _paper_ cut?" Rik let rip with one of his piggiest snorts.

"It's got a lead pipe in the middle," Vyvyan lied. "Anyway you cried like a baby when you cut your hand on – "

"Yes yes shut up. Well. Um." Rik frowned. "Look. You don't _really_ want me to get my botty out, do you? In front of you and everything?" he fiddled anxiously with his shirt buttons.

"I don't know until I've _seen_ it, do I?" Vyvyan pointed out, quite sensibly for him. "Hey, can you lick your own bits?"

"_What_?"

"Well, all dogs do that. I was thinking I should make you lick your bits." Vyvyan grinned down at him. "Can you?"

"No. Wait – no, I don't know because _I've never tried_, so there," Rik spluttered, scrabbling with his trousers.

"I bet you _have_," Vyvyan slapped his palm with the newspaper and made a face as it stung him. "_Can_ you lick your bits?"

Rik removed his trousers and folded them on the bed with a sulky look. "No."

"Well then," Vyvyan said as Rik began sliding his horrid underpants off, the picture of hesitance and modesty (albeit a picture painted by a blind artist using a hedgehog instead of a brush), "you'll just have to lick mine instead, won't you?"

And then a huge fiberglass cow fell out of the sky and crushed the entire house.


End file.
